


Just Dropping By

by Donnies_Lab_Assistant



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Family Feels, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donnies_Lab_Assistant/pseuds/Donnies_Lab_Assistant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A newcomer to the Turtles' city makes unexpected friends. Ren wanted to leave her old life behind and start afresh, but things take unexpected turns from the very first day she arrives in New York. The four brothers remind her too much of what's been taken from her and she isn't sure she can be the same person again- something they claim is vividly thriving in her. Has fate decided to replace what she has lost?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Dropping By

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second TMNT fanfiction, although it is the first i'm putting out there (first one still in the works). I returned to writing fanfiction after a hiatus of nearly 3 years and i'm sure my writing is somewhat rusty now. Needless to mention, I'm kinda nervous. Please let me know what you think, and if I should continue this. If you happen to like this, kudos are welcome :)

Driving all night should be one of the many recommended therapies for anxiety.

I hadn’t felt my head clear up like this in a long time. And good timing, since I was going to live in my new apartment from today, alone. I wouldn’t be able to get the place set up if my head was still halfway across the country. Back in the cemetery among four fresh graves…

I shook myself, trying to shake off the desolate grip of raw grief. I wasn’t much help around the old house anymore. That is why I decided to move- I needed this new start. And I couldn’t let my emotional wounds clog up the little clarity and determination I had finally managed to gather again.

I looked around the still dark neighborhood, illuminated with various artificial lighting. Judging from the blaring music blasting from the two storied yellow building I just drove across, a baby crying in the one three blocks after, and a couple of young lovers whispering to each other, huddled in a blanket on the fire escape of the fifth building that I passed, I realized that the city of New York never really slept.

I smiled wryly at the prospect of living in a locality that hardly snoozed. I moved to New York with all my savings, just so I could live isolated for as long as I needed. There was too much going on at the old house and I was craving for some space to myself. And here, the patrons seem to rarely slumber. So much for having the nights all to myself…

Tapping away on my keyboard, conjuring words and penning down feelings deep into the night was something I had been looking forward to for a long time now. Sure, there are plenty of noted writers and I’m sure it’s not going to be easy to carve a niche for myself- but I had to start somewhere. So here I was.

I parked as quietly as I could, even though I wouldn’t have disturbed anyone. Down south, we are a polite and thoughtful community. And I believe I carry these ingrained principles quite, if not lesser, gracefully.

I felt lucky to have gotten a fully furnished apartment with a rent I could comfortably afford. I am not an extravagant person, but I do have a weakness for hoarding stuff and moving to a big city with my knick-knacks of every size would have proved to be a nightmare. Surprisingly, I managed to bring all that I needed in just a suitcase and a small duffel bag. And it was a good thing.  
The elevator was broken.

I’m one of those stubborn people who try to carry everything in one go. Climbing to the fourth floor with two pieces of luggage was a piece of cake. Once on my floor, I looked around at my neighbors’ doors. Not open.

Good.

I am not very chatty and exchanging pleasantries is something I’ve never been comfortable with. I hoped the neighbors were the nice, yet aloof, kind.

I hesitated for a minute as I stared at the key in my hand.

I’m actually on my own.

Alone.

Finally.

I’m going to love this.

I placed a somber hand on the door just before turning the knob. I don’t know for what- maybe I wanted to connect to my new environment as I stepped forwards to wade into unknown waters.

The place was quaint and cozy. It had everything it needed, and what it lacked in room, it made up in homeliness. I smiled.

Just how I like it.

I checked my watch. It was just past four in the wee Friday morning, and I wasn’t going to start working till Monday. Ignoring my still packed luggage, I went to brew some tea. I wasn’t sleepy, just a little sore from driving more than I usually do. As I let the water boil, I walked out to the fire escape to look around. From my perch at the fourth floor, I felt like I had the view from a snug little bird’s nest.

The kettle blew a tiny, shrill whistle and I went to check on it, leaving the window open. The breeze didn’t have the same feel as the air back in the old house at the farm, but I liked it.

I switched off the lights and settled comfortably on the cozy divan with the steaming mug of tea in my hands. The streetlights cast enough light into my apartment and… I needed that near-darkness. The dim cocoon was warm and safe and protective, and I could hide inside it.

No one will intrude.

The familiar sting was wearisome now. I guess you can never cry enough tears when grief is still so… unprocessed? Probably not a good way to put it, but hey, whatever…

I don’t want to go into detail about what I was doing in the dark, but let’s just say peppermint tea is a good choice when you are bawling and start to get your airway clogged up.

The nice thing about frequent crying, at least in my case, is that you don’t do it too much at a time.

Wiping my face with the sleeve of my hoodie, I got up and walked to the window. The breeze was a little chilly now, the kind that feels like tiny icicles nicking at your face, and I savored its wintry touch.

The different sounds from the adjacent apartments and buildings shifted to the frequency of soothing white noise and I tuned out from the pain in my chest.

I must have dozed off for a moment. Or several. For what happened next, in what seemed like my continuous wakefulness, was something I definitely would have dodged.

A small crackling noise followed by a strange whoosh of air made me open my eyes and look up.

A strange oval shape was hurling towards me and at first I mistook it for a massive football in the dimness. It got bigger and bigger in dimension as the seconds flew and in my sleepy, confused eyes, I thought I saw mechanical and electrical attachments on it, in addition to four long limbs splaying out awkwardly around it…??

I didn’t get the chance to convert my observation into actual words inside my head as the object- whatever it was- crashed into me and I was sent flying backwards into the living room.

I wasn’t knocked out, but was pinned on the floor completely. The thing (let’s just call it that for now) must have weighed at least 200 pounds and was completely limp. I would be very surprised if I didn’t have anything broken by now.

Regretting that I’d switched off the lights earlier, I grunted and pushed at the thing pinning me down. The oval thing felt textured and had various symmetrical dents and grooves on it. The four limb-like extensions felt like regular muscle and skin, just a tad cold and clammy. That set off alarm bells in my head and I panicked.

I really don’t want to get robbed on my first day.

As I readied for another push, I caught a strange whiff in the air.

Was that the odor of sea-weed?

Wait, no- something akin to it but not exactly sea-weed.

Algae.

And raw shrimp.

I felt my face tighten in a frown.

What the hell?

Groping around on the textured oval thing, my fingers brushed in the nook where skin fused with what felt like… bone.

No it wasn’t bone. But it was hard and despite the many grooves and dents, it was strangely smooth, not prickly or grainy.

I realized the oval thing had a convex shape and shifting both hands to one side, I used its curved surface to roll it off the top of me.

Steadying myself, I ran for the light switch when I heard a low groan. I froze.

Standing completely still, not even daring to breathe, I suddenly became aware of a damp area on my chest and abdomen. My poor tea mug, forgotten when I had dozed off at the balcony, didn’t survive the impact and neither did the steaming beverage inside it.

I gingerly traced the wet area. It stung. I burnt myself with tea.

Another groan. The hair on my neck stood up.

I spied my duffel back to my immediate right, opposite to where the oval thing-person was moaning incoherently.  
In two quick steps, and deft hand movements from years of familiarity with the zipper, I grabbed my baseball bat from its fabric confines and turned to the thing-person in my living room. Even in the faint light, I could see it already halfway up to a sitting position.

My heart thudded with a deafening beat and I could swear I stopped breathing for the next few moments during which I threw on the lights and swung out wildly at the first surface I saw.

“OW!”

Another swing.

“Hey-ow!! St-stop!”

Two blows in quick succession.

“OOF!! That hurt like sewer apples…” A heavy thud on the floor. “OUCH!! LADY, WOULD YOU STOP?!”

The aggravated voice with a slight nasal twang sounded harmless now, but I was on a frenzied rush and couldn’t stop my movements fast enough- at least not before I whacked it on its bald head.

“I’m not gonna hurt-” it did a little sway before it fell back mumbling, “… you…”

I had knocked it out cold.

Breathless and frantic, I hadn’t realized I was thwarting my body’s respiratory duties. I placed a palm on my chest and sure enough, the central organ was overworking in furious rhythm.

With jelly knees, I stumbled to a chair and dragged it near the thing and sat down. It shouldn’t wake up for a few, and I needed to clear my vision. Tiny black spots were dancing in my eyes and I had forgotten what it felt like to be so breathless. It had been years since my heart surgery. I was healthy and thriving now, and things back home were always kept as calm as possible so as not to get me worked up. For all I knew, the surgery had restored me, and I had forgotten about my condition- till now.  
Once my breathing got a little better, I fished out a knife from the cabinet and held on to it for dear life. The thing was still out cold. My heart still felt erratic and I didn’t dare make a lot of movements. I should be yelling or calling for help but something about the annoyed undertone of the thing’s voice made me reconsider.

I stumbled back to the chair, the glinting knife and the shielding bat in each hand.

I finally took a good look and half-collapsed onto the chair in stunned bewilderment.

A green man?

I studied his features. No, didn’t seem too old from his taut face and limbs. And his voice had an adolescent tinge to it.

What is that thing on his back? A bony armor of some kind?

My gaze fell on his hands. Three huge fingers?

Momentarily forgetting my fear, I kneeled down next to him and took a close look at his face. A purple bandana with eye holes hid nearly half of it. I lifted it cautiously and to my surprise he wasn’t just bald, but he lacked eyebrows completely… in fact, there wasn’t a single hair on his face, arms or legs- wait, what?!

I gawked stupidly at his chest, abdomen and feet. Bony armor on the back, thick leathery breastplate, three fingers and two huge toes and green all over? I gingerly poked at his face and arm to make sure it wasn’t an elaborate costume.

Nope. Real skin and bone.

Head whirring, I stood up clumsily and held my head. This was all a little too much for the new girl.

I needed another mug of tea.


End file.
